


Day 25. Drain

by Munnin



Series: Fictober [25]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: Savric finds a new resolve on Naboo and Swan forms an unexpected connection.





	Day 25. Drain

It took Savric three days to find the clarity to call Helara again, sending her a written message via the holonet. 

_Ms Avery,_

_My conduct when last we spoke was unbecoming and unforgivable. If you can find it in your heart to pardon me, I would very much like to speak with you again. Please allow me to take you to lunch at the café you recommended. I wish to know my sister through your eyes, and for her to live on in your memory._

_Yours in sincere apology,  
Savric Ishsha._

She answered at once and agreed to meet but on one condition. Instead of lunch at the café, it would be Tak’s favourite: podpoppers and fried fish eaten from a wrapper in a park by the lake.

They sat together under the trees for hours as Hel told the stories Sav asked for.

About the first time they met at an Academy student ball. How Tak had been embarrassed she didn’t know how to dance. How Hel had taken her hand and showed her the steps. 

How Tak never told anyone she was a failed Jedi till her fourth year at the Academy, afraid people would judge her for it. 

About their little clique of friends. How they supported and enabled each other; getting each other into trouble as often as they got each other out of it. How Tak was sometimes slow to try new things, but when she did, she threw herself at them all the way. Sometimes to her detriment, taking things too far. Sometimes first to bed and sometimes last to leave the party, but rarely anything in between. 

How Tak was nearly arrested for _holding Deathsticks for a friend_ , or took too much Hemchar root to get over a big night and hallucinated colours all the way through a flight exam. 

How Tak was funny and kind and self-deprecating. Except when she was stressed and then she was cocky as hell just to cover it. 

How Tak always cried after sex, and loved to be held for hours. How she always had to be reassured it was okay to enjoy herself and that there wasn’t anything dirty or wrong about it.

How she hated thunderstorms but loved to dance in the rain. How fireworks made her sad but she could never explain why. 

How she’d been more confident after Navy War College, more self-assured. How she’d never talk about life in the Temple except to say it wasn’t for her and that she’d found other ways to serve the Galaxy. 

How Tak had confided all of it to Hel the night Hel had proposed to her. And how Hel had promised never to tell anyone else. That it was enough to know Tak found her calling, and it wasn’t with a sabre in her hands.

How proud Tak was when she made captain. How her measure of success was bringing home every member of the crew she set out with, from her first officer to the lowest maintenance droid. 

How she accepted danger for herself, but never for those around her.

How, how, how…

How they had fought the day before their last mission. Over a job offer Hel had received, but didn’t want to take because it meant being away from Tak for long periods.

“She wanted me to follow my passions,” Hel said sadly, tossing the last greasy podpopper to the gulls. “I told her I was, that’s why I was following her. I’ve spent half the time I’ve been here trying to work out if she died just to set me free.”

“No,” Sav answered softly, wiping his fingers on the grass. “From everything you’ve told me, she died because she saw it as her duty, her service. I think she wanted you to live, because she knew you’d find yours.”

Hel sighed and flopped back, hand crossed over her chest. “They’re still waiting for my answer.”

Sav watched the light ripple on the water, listening to the cry of the gulls. “I know-” he trailed off, trying to find the words. “I know I have no right to offer you advice. I’m… near enough to a stranger and one who has been rude at that. But I think you should take the job. If it’s something you’re passionate about. I think… I think my sister would have wanted that.”

Hel reached over and squeezed his hand. “I think you’re right about that. But what about you? What are you going to do?”

Sav turned his face up to the sun, closing his eyes. “What I should have done from the beginning.”

***

“Captain Fordo?” General Skywalker called, catching Red Mist as they stepped into a turbo lift.

“Yes, General?” Crispy stuck his boot in the door to keep it open as Fordo stepped out to meet Anakin

“Are you on your way to escort the slicer? Swan Le?”

“Yes, sir,” Fordo nodded, bucket under his arm. “Senator Amidala’s party is returning to Naboo this evening. Le is to go with them, to work with the defector.”

“Padmé just messaged me. There’s been a change of plans. Senator Ishsha has agreed to testify before the Senate. He’ll be arriving on Coruscant at the end of the month. He sent some data ahead for the slicer to analyse.” He pulled a data chip from the folds of his robes. “Give this to Le. And make sure he’s ready to present his findings at the hearing.” 

Fordo doubted very much Swan would agree to set foot in the Senate. The twitchy little slicer had accepted Fordo and Red Mist as his go-betweens and would deal with General Kenobi when needed, but Fordo suspected Swan would baulk if General Skywalker _ordered_ him to do anything. 

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements,” Fordo answered diplomatically. 

“Whatever you need to do, just get it done.” Skywalker was already on the move again and gone.

Crispy retracted his foot, letting the lift doors close behind Frodo. “Le is not going to like this at all!”

“No, he won’t,” Fordo sighed, tucking the data-chip in a pouch. “But let’s leave that for the Jedi to deal with.”

***

Savric seemed different to Padmé as he stepped off the Naboo shuttle. He greeted her with the same formality, bowing over her hand but there was something more solid about him. Something steadier. Perhaps he had found his resolve. 

“It seems time on Naboo agreed with you, Senator Ishsha,” she commented lightly as she led him into her office. “You look well.” 

“It is a very beautiful world and I’m honoured you would share it with me, m’lady,” he answered, waiting for her to sit. Some formalities never died. 

“Were you able to find the closure you were seeking?” she probed gently, unsure how far to push. 

Padmé hadn’t heard from Helara Avery since she’d arranged for the pair to meet and it struck her they might not get on well. From their brief conversations, Padmé rather liked Helara. She was honest and open and quick to speak her mind. Something Padmé wasn’t so sure Savric would value. And then there were the Induparan attitudes towards same sex relationships to consider. In hindsight, Padmé was rather worried introducing them without a third-party present might have been a mistake. 

“I did.” Sav nodded slowly, weighting his words with care. “I was… very fortunate to get to know my sister through the eyes of… someone who loved her deeply.”

Padmé sighed with relief, trying to cover it by pouring him a cup of caf. “I’m very glad. I didn’t know her personally but I understand from those who served with her, Tarika Avery was very well liked and respected.”

Sav nodded and accepted the cup of caf. “And a hero in her own right. It was… gaining an understanding of her service that gave me to courage to face this trial.”

“It’s a hearing,” she reassured softly. “Not a trial. And I will be with you every step of the way.”

They both knew it could turn into a trial very quickly. The wrong pressure from the wrong people at the wrong moment could turn a strategy formulation hearing into a war crimes tribunal. 

“You have been very kind to me, Lady Amidala. Kinder than I deserve. But I think it best you distance yourself from me. If this… if things go wrong, I don’t wish for it to reflect badly on you.”

Padmé smiled sadly. “I have never shrunk from speaking my mind, Savric. I believe you never intended harm when you programmed those droids. And that you will do all in your power to help the Republic combat them.”

“Still, I don’t wish for you to be caught in the crossfire.”

***

Swan rotated the data model, setting it to spin slowly. It was stunning, a symphony of code. 

The composer had been sending data chips every few days now. There was something odd about the coding. It was encrypted of course. The composer had not trusted to holo-net so the data had arrived in small chunks, delivered by couriers every flight from Naboo to Coruscant.

It seemed to Swan that the composer was playing for him, message within a message. It was a compliment to his skills that the encryption changed with each new chip. Each one a hand-crafted puzzle designed just for Swan. 

They had not spoken or met but it seemed to Swan they understood each other.

The hearing was today and Swan had done this part. He had complied his findings and the model, ready for the composer to present to the Senate. Swan was very glad he had to play no part in it beyond that. His world was code and music, numbers and notes. Swan wanted nothing to do with people and politics.

He’d been paid handsomely for the job. Well enough to set himself up somewhere nice for a while, maybe get back into the bespoke coding he enjoyed most. He should have been on the next transport off Coruscant but a frivolous thought made him stay. 

He wanted to meet the composer. This Savric Ishsha who understood him and spoke his language. Savric had sent him a present with the last confirmation of code. Nothing to do with the project, just a gift from one coder to another.

A puzzle and a song written in code. It had been encrypted better than all the others, a maze of melody hiding the gift at the centre like so many layers of wrapping paper. 

But when he broke through the last knot and set the song to play, Swan felt his heart quickening. He sat down heavily, the colour drained from his face. 

It was hauntingly beautiful and too familiar. A style of song Swan knew all too well. 

And it had taken him too long to decode it. It might already be too late to prevent the crescendo.

He grabbed the data-chip and his deck and ran into the other room, stuffing his things in his pack. The clones were gone, the job was over. For the first time since this had started, he missed them. And Captain Fordo wasn’t answering his call. 

Instead he ran for a hovercar. “I have to get to the Senate. Now!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Josh and Jess.


End file.
